A Call to Darkness - Michael Jan Friedman [13]
He was a lucky man. If one of Worf’s security people hadn’t found him when she did, he would no doubt have died in that lonely science-section corridor.
The doctor consulted the monitor on Fredi’s biobed, saw that everything was more or less stable-except for one thing. The toxin in his bloodstream was gradually building up again.
Maybe lucky wasn’t quite the right word after all.
Initially, Pulaski had gone with the obvious hypothesis: that the geologist had been exposed to the poison during his away duty on Baldwin-McKean’s Planet. However, his exposure had taken place weeks ago, and that was a long time for even a slow-acting toxin to make its presence felt. What’s more, if the problem were a simple poisoning, the blood purifier would have taken care of it-and it hadn’t. Minutes after the purging process was complete, the toxin was evident again. And a second purge hadn’t managed to get rid of it either-not permanently.
Which added up to one thing-the toxin was being manufactured by something in Fredi’s system. An alien bacterium had taken hold inside him-in quantities small enough to have gotten past the transporter sensors, which meant really small-and then, given time, had multiplied to the point where it could generate a significant level of toxin.
It sounded good. Unfortunately, there was no alien bacterium-or at least none she could find. But if a bacterium wasn’t responsible… then where in blazes was the poison coming from? Something had to be producing it. It couldn’t very well be materializing out of thin air.
Fredi stirred and turned his head toward her. For a moment, his eyes blinked, as if at a bright light. Then he fell asleep again.
It brought her maternal instinct to the surface. The man was only a couple of years her junior, but that didn’t matter. In a sense, all doctors felt like mothers to their patients.
She bit her lip. Enough romanticizing. She had some work ahead of her.
Fredi himself would be all right for a while. As long as his blood was purified every so often, his symptoms wouldn’t get any worse. As for the rest of the crew… well, that was another story.
Those who had been part of the Baldwin-McKean away team were naturally at risk. They would have to be tested for evidence of the toxin. And even if they tested negative, they’d have to be watched closely for a while-in case the ailment took even longer to develop in their cases.
What’s more, in the weeks since they’d left Baldwin-McKean, there had been plenty of time for Fredi to pass on the disease-assuming, of course, that it was contagious.
The fact that Fredi’s case was the only one she’d encountered so far was encouraging-but hardly conclusive. Until Pulaski knew exactly what this ailment was, she had to entertain all possibilities.
Hence, the quarantine order. Not only for Fredi, but also for the other Baldwin-McKean away team members, once they were identified and brought to sickbay.
The thing to do now was to inform the captain-even before she rounded up the others who’d participated in the Baldwin-McKean survey. If the disease did prove to be communicable, she didn’t want Picard caught by surprise.
Not that there would be anything he could do about it. That responsibility would come to rest squarely on her shoulders.
Chapter Three
RIKER HEARD the last of Pulaski’s report. He nodded as if she were standing there in front of him, rather than communicating from her office in sickbay.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he told her. “Need any help corralling the rest of the survey team?”
“I can do that myself,” said Pulaski. “I know how quickly you bureaucrats roll into action.”
Riker chuckled. “All right,” he said. “Have it your way.”
As luck would have it, he had missed that rather uneventful away mission, having entrusted it to Ensign Pappas. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked.
“No,” said the chief medical officer. “That will be all-for now.”
Having gotten what she wanted,